


Wanna Be My Queen?

by Ennoshita



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Cardverse, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic, if i remember anyways, other relationships will be hinted but usuk is the main one, the world may never know, will add more later on, will i ever update this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:44:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5295251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ennoshita/pseuds/Ennoshita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur catches King Alfred's eye in the marketplace one day, and both their worlds are turned upside down. Or should I say right side up, considering the palace is on a pretty big hill and is a huge improvement from Arthur's small house in a neighborhood on the right side of Spades. Either way, Arthur now has to cope living with a very talkative king, a butler that makes a habit of bowing, and a seemingly always frustrated Jack.</p><p>i have no idea if this will ever be updated lmao</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad Communicator Arthur, the King of Spades, and an Invitation

“Wanna be my queen?” 

Arthur turned around with a witty retort on the tip of his tongue, only to have it swallowed back down as he realized who was standing in front of him, with a casual stance, a casual tone of voice, and not-so-casual clothing.

King Alfred.

Arthur stood staring at the person in front of him, dumbfounded, until he realized who it was. Again.

King Alfred.

Key word: king.

Arthur fell to his knees and placed (more like slammed) his head on the ground, the palms of his hands face down on either side of his now-hurting forehead and _ow_ why did he do that so hard?

“My King! I apologize for my actions!” Arthur exclaimed, probably a little too dramatically, and definitely too loudly. A few people stopped and looked on, wondering why a person was bowing on the ground like th-oh, the _king._

After a beat of silence from the man clad in the expensive material of a specially tailored suit, a laugh erupted from him, and it seemed like he was having trouble breathing through his laughter. Arthur lifted his head slightly, confused, wanting to rub at the small red bump forming smack dab in the middle of his forehead but not wanting to disrespect the king in any way. 

Speaking of the king, when did that black-gloved hand get there? 

Arthur tentatively reached out his pathetic non-gloved hand and let the still-laughing king pull him up off the concrete of the marketplace. Once he was standing his full height, but still bowing his head a bit out of respect, he noticed that he was shorter than the king (who had just now finished his bout of loud giggling).

King Alfred dropped his hand and let it swing at his side for a moment, before waving at Arthur like they were old acquaintances. 

“Nice to meet you! I’m Alfred Jones! What’s your name?” An overly bright smile stretched across his face. Before Arthur could so much as blink twice in disbelief, (why in the world was the _king_ talking to him?) Alfred continued talking. “Y’know you didn’t have to do that, right? The whole bowing down thing? That looked like it hurt. I’ve been king for 4 years now, and it still makes me feel awkward. So just for future reference, don’t do that. Unless you’re scared of me, because sometimes it seems like some people are with how they act around me, but you don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m really nice! At least, I believe I am. I probably wouldn’t be king anymore if I were mean. But anyway, who are you?”

 _Now_ Arthur blinked twice in disbelief. This was the King of Spades.

This joyful, bubbly, talkative, _(handsome)_ man was the King of Spades. 

Arthur was genuinely surprised Alfred wasn’t bouncing in place. 

“My name is Arthur? Um, Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.” Arthur nodded to himself, as if pleased with his response, but really he was screaming at himself. Internally, of course. He looked away, a sudden feeling of embarrassment rushing through his body. Okay, so obviously this person is happy-go-lucky, (seemingly all the time) but he’s still who rules over the Kingdom of Spades, and Arthur wanted nothing less than to go home, lay in his cot, and read a novel. Being stared at by royalty _(with very nice blue eyes)_ was a bit intimidating, no matter the happy vibes that come from him.

“Ohhh nice! I like that name! Arthur Kirkland…you’re not from around here, are you? I can tell by your accent. How old are you? You seem like you could be older than me, even though you’re shorter. OH! You never answered my question from before! Also, do you ever trim your eyebrows? I can arrange for them to be trimmed, if you want,” Alfred blabbered, a few hand gestures here and there. Arthur was quickly becoming flustered, and the small crowd that had gathered was _not helping._

Arthur closed his eyes, took a deep breath in through his nose, exhaled, than started answering Alfred’s questions.

“No, I am not from Spades. I am originally from the southern part of Diamonds. I am 21 years old, and if I am not mistaken Your Highness, I am only 3 years older than you. I…am not sure how to answer your question from earlier because I cannot tell if you were being serious or not. No, I do not trim my eyebrows, nor do I need arrangements to get them trimmed, but I thank you for your generosity, My King.” 

Arthur inhaled again, long and deep.

That was probably the most he had said the whole week.

Before Alfred could get a word out of his grinning mouth, a voice called out, a few stalls over.

“Mr. Alfred, there you are! You really need to learn to at least tell me where you are going before leaving on your own!” 

A man with dark brown shoulder-length hair pulled into a ponytail was rapidly approaching. Rich blue garments also adorned his body, but his was more like a long cloak. _(Arthur’s first thought was that it was a dress). ___

Arthur’s immediate instinct was to turn away and leave as quickly as he could, but then he remembered that the king was standing in front of him, and that would look very disrespectful. He bowed his head a little lower as the other royal man arrived at Alfred’s side.

“Hey Yao! Sorry I suddenly walked off. I saw Arthur here and just couldn’t stay away. Wouldn’t he make a perfect queen? Don’t you think so Yao? I think he would.” Alfred sounded like a teenage girl gushing over the new cute boy in town, and Arthur wasn’t sure what to think about that. 

Arthur kept his eyes trained on the ground. A frustrated huff was heard, presumably from Yao, but before he could say anything, Alfred cut in, this time directing his words toward Arthur.

“Aw c’mon Arthur, lift your head up! Let Yao get a good look at ‘cha!” Arthur reluctantly did what he was told, and was startled to see two _very_ different pairs of eyes. One pair was bright and happy, and Arthur swore he saw them literally sparkling. The other pair was a chocolate brown, with a glaring glint in them. 

If he was being honest _(and he was),_ Arthur had no idea what he did to deserve that look. 

Yao dragged a hand down his face with a very obvious look of frustration. Arthur guessed the king and this man were considerably close, what with Yao being so openly annoyed with him and Alfred not even batting an eye. 

“Sir, please, now really isn’t the time. We must get back to the palace befo-“

“Oh, I know! Arthur can come back with us!” Alfred interrupted. He seemed to have a habit of doing that. 

“I can?” Arthur almost slapped a hand over his mouth at his sudden outburst. What did the king mean? Going to the palace? That was absurd! Arthur’s just a lowly citizen. 

Yao sighed. “If you insist, sir. Just remember the dinner party you are attending tonight. You can’t miss another one.”

Alfred groaned. “Fine, fine.” The king turned his attention to Arthur once more, and smiled a large smile. “Okay Artie, I’ll send some people to your house with you to gather what you need, and then a carriage will come and pick you up and take you to the palace. Sound okay? Great! See you later then!” The King and what Arthur had now guessed to be the Jack of Spades walked away. The crowd dispersed, and Arthur was left standing in the middle of the marketplace, by the jewelry stalls, with a slack jaw and shaky knees.

The king wants him to become the queen?

He’s going to the palace? That afternoon?

He was going to _live_ there?

_Artie?!_

_What the actual hell just happened?_

\----

Arthur still couldn’t believe what was happening even as it was happening. There were three of the king’s servants in his house, carrying out the essentials he needed to live and stacking it into the back of a blue and golden carriage.

There were only three suitcases (one for clothes and shoes, another for toiletries and knick-knacks, and the last solely for his books), so he didn’t understand the need for help. He could’ve very easily done it himself. He tried telling the three servants this, but they all objected at once, saying how they wanted to do this for him, and how it was their pleasure working for the future Queen of Spades.

Arthur definitely couldn’t believe King Alfred really wanted him as the queen either. If Alfred was being serious, Arthur wasn’t sure what he’d do. Would he go along with it? Rebel against it? Did he even want to do it? Did he _not_ want to do it? 

Once he was in the carriage and it was moving forward with the clacking of the horse’s hooves, he realized he had made a grave mistake.

Living in the castle would be a _huge_ honor. It’s not like he could turn down an offer to move there, _especially_ since the king himself had suggested it.

But becoming queen?

Arthur couldn’t do that. This was all extremely rushed. He had absolutely no idea about royalty in Spades, much less in the other three Card Kingdoms. This was impossible. Once he got to the palace, he would immediately demand to see Alfred, and turn down this whole queen ordeal. 

He didn’t even _want_ to be the queen.

The only thing Arthur’s good for is reading his books. He’d be a horrible queen. He was cranky, especially when he was bothered while reading, and he knew he had bad communication skills. Just take earlier, for example.

He couldn’t intervene and tell Alfred that _no,_ he was _not_ going to become queen.

He just let it happen. 

And now he was in an expensive carriage (it had glass windows and everything), being led by an expensive breed of horse, up to the most expensive building in all of Spades. 

This was way too much to take in. 

\----

Arthur looked around the palace in complete astonishment, not even trying to hide his staring. 

After the carriage had stopped and he had gotten out, two of the servants led him inside the impossibly huge building as the third led the horse away, with the carriage still attached.

He hadn’t had much time to see the outside of the magnificent castle, seeing as he was quickly ushered in, but he had been told to wait in the first room while the servants dashed off to find a butler and to set his luggage in his room, so he gaped all he wanted. 

He wasn’t even sure what this room was. The first thing he noticed when he walked in through the huge, intricately carved wooden doors was the blue-carpeted staircase. It was right in the middle of the room, so it was pretty hard to miss. The second thing he noticed was the enormous chandelier hanging high above him, sapphire sequins sparkling softly. 

The third thing he noticed was all the _blue._

It was Spades’ national color, so it was only normal there’d be a lot, but this seemed a little too much. 

Everything he saw was blue, with a bit of light violet here and there. The walls, the floor, the man walking toward him, the light filtering through the blue-tinted, high rising windows, the…

The man?

Arthur was too busy looking around to notice the man dressed in a blue suit standing in front of him. (The suit was fancy, but not near as expensive-looking as Alfred’s was).

“Hello. You must be Arthur. My name is Matthew Williams. I am the head butler of the Spades palace, and I am here on behalf of Jack Yao’s orders to see you to your room.” The blonde-haired man ended his introduction with a flourish, a small bow with a hand across his stomach. 

“Oh.” Arthur coughed and looked away, a hand rising to rub the back of his neck. He felt extremely underdressed in a basic pair of tweed pants and a blue collared shirt, and equally embarrassed that he had been caught with his jaw on the floor. “Oh, alright. Do your thing then.”

Matthew bowed again, then turned around swiftly and walked up the stairs with confident strides, tailcoat swishing behind him. With one last glance over his shoulder at the double doors, Arthur followed.

\----

Arthur had made a realization.

This room was nicer than his entire house during his Spring Cleaning week.

The bed was a queen-size, and when Arthur had asked who he’d be sharing it with, Matthew looked surprised. _“This is all yours,”_ he had said, in a polite, matter-of-fact tone. 

There were huge draping curtains covering the far wall, and behind them was a huge sliding glass door leading out to a balcony that overlooked a huge garden. A huge dresser was on the opposite side of the huge room, across the huge bed. A regular-sized _(finally)_ door was on the other side of the bed. Once past it, Arthur found himself in a huge _(never mind)_ bathroom, with a dark blue ornate sink and a light blue granite washing-bin. 

Arthur was nervous, and honestly, that was probably an understatement. He didn’t want to touch anything. He didn’t even want to _look_ at anything for fear that his stare may ruin something in the perfectly ordered room. 

He saw his suitcases propped up against the covered-in-blue-silk bed, and was relieved to see an object that wasn’t so fancy. He strode over to them, but before he could so much as lean down to make sure all his stuff was there, the door opened _(silently, because the hinges were in tip-top shape. Arthur knew someone walked in when he felt that weird feeling you get when another presence enters the room)._

“Arthur! You’re here!”

The king closed the door behind him with a large grin, wearing clothes that definitely weren’t as fancy as earlier, but still fancier than anything Arthur had ever worn his entire life. Arthur’s heart jumped for a split second because this was _the king,_ but then he remembered his demands. He straightened out his back and stood his full 5’9” height, looking Alfred in the eyes with a defiant look on his face, and declared in a loud, clear voice:

“I will not become your queen.”

Alfred’s eyebrows rose. He looked impressed.

“This is a surprise,” Alfred said, chuckling a bit. Arthur sunk a little, but hey, at least the king wasn’t yelling at him for being disrespectful. Maybe he really didn’t care about that after all. “But then again, I guess it really isn’t all that surprising.” Alfred put a hand up to his chin, a contemplating look on his face. “I mean, I saw you out there in the marketplace and thought, ‘Huh, he seems like a really interesting person.’ And you are! Judging from your reaction to me outside, I would have thought you’d always be like that around me, but here you are, sticking up for yourself. Most people just go along with whatever I say, but you aren’t, even though I wish you would for this. But that’s okay; it’s a nice change of pace! I like it!”

Arthur suddenly found the dark blue carpet very interesting, and he could feel his face heating up a bit. He didn’t want the king to be mad at him, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to be _complimented_ on his actions. 

Alfred moved past him to sit on the bed, and Arthur followed suit, albeit hesitantly. He was still afraid of breaking something. The King of Spades turned his head to look at him, leaning back on his arms. 

If he weren’t wearing the overly nice clothes, Arthur never would’ve guessed this man was the ruler of one of the four Card Kingdoms.

“Hey, um…” Arthur cleared his throat, looking straight ahead, eyes trained on the door handle. “Why exactly do you want me to become the queen anyway? And why do you want me to live here? I don’t have a problem with it, of course. It’s very nice here. But why so sudden?”

Alfred stared at him a moment with a smile before answering.

“I already said, didn’t I? You’re interesting. You seem like the type of person I wanna know more about, so I figured I could just invite you to live here, and maybe you could become queen too. I’ve needed one of those ever since I became king. It unfortunately didn’t come with this whole king package.” Alfred let out a breathy laugh, but Arthur frowned. Why hasn’t there been a queen? “I’m not that great with all the warfare stuff, so I always have Yao help me out, but even then, he’s only a scribe. It’s the queen’s job to look over all the warfare and border stuff, and the wellbeing of their people, and the king looks after trade and attends all the political meetings with all the other kings and leaders. I think I do that pretty well, but I suck at doing the queen’s job too.” 

Arthur sighed, still not looking over at the much-too-comfortable king. “I know nothing on the topic of war in Spades, so I most definitely have no knowledge of it in the other Kingdoms. I don’t understand why you would thin-”

A knock on the door interrupted Arthur, and before waiting for a response, it was unceremoniously flung open.

“Sir! My goodness, I was looking all over for you! The dinner party starts in 10 minutes, and you are not even dressed yet!” Yao looked frustrated, and his face was slightly flushed from rushing around. Alfred stood up, and looked down at Arthur with a dazzling smile.

“I’ll see you around! I might be too tired to come talk after the party, but we can tomorrow. I’ll answer any questions you have! Bye-bye!” Alfred waved before he was ushered out the door by an angry Yao, and Arthur was left in silence.

What a day, huh?


	2. Getting Lost, Eggs, and Insulting the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My chapter title pretty much sums it up.

First night in palace: done.

Hunger satisfied: nada.

Arthur lay on top of the silk sheets with limbs sprawled out and a very grumbly tummy. Sunlight streamed in through the small crack in between the curtains, and Arthur had an urge to tell it to shut up. 

His stomach rumbled for the nth time that morning. With a determined huff, he pushed himself off the extremely soft bed and onto his feet, grabbing his suitcase filled with clothes and changing into more suitable attire for the day (which was a grey collared shirt and another pair of tweed pants, seeing as that was the nicest thing he had). 

Arthur hadn’t been paying attention when Matthew had been leading him to his room, but now, as he peeked out into the hallway, he wished he had.

Right? Or left? 

He decided to go left.

There was nothing else down this hallway except for a few doors here and there on the sides, and Arthur was too scared to open any of them. In his defense, he had no idea what could be hiding behind them, so he opted to just leave them alone. 

Once he came to a dead end, he turned around, passed the room he was staying in, and kept going straight until there was another right/left decision to make.

He went right this time. 

This happened a few times _(just how many freaking corridors are in this place?!)_ before he finally found himself in a room with a wood tiled floor and high-rising roof. Every wall had more of those tall, blue-tinted windows, with more doors in between each one. 

It certainly wasn’t a place with food, but at least Arthur was out of those hallways for now. (This time he paid close attention to his surroundings, so he could find his way back on his own).

Footsteps stopped him from advancing into the room, however, and even if they didn’t faze him, the voice definitely would have. 

“Mr. Kirkland, what are you doing standing in front of the ballroom?”

Arthur looked over his shoulder to see who was addressing him before fully turning around. Matthew stopped before him with feet together a small bow, wearing the same outfit as yesterday (it’s actually different, but it looks exactly the same).

“Ah, well, I was looking for food, but this place is very big and I, uh…” He trailed off, and Matthew nodded in understanding. 

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Kirkland. Many guests become lost, but I assure you that once you get used to the palace, you’ll be able to navigate yourself around very easily.” Matthew offered a small smile. “Would you like me to show you to the kitchen?” 

“Yes, please. If it isn’t any trouble.” 

\----

With one last bow, Matthew turned away, leaving Arthur alone in the kitchen.

Well, not entirely alone, since there were a few chefs milling around, but the lack of familiar faces left Arthur feeling lonely. 

A couple of the female chefs looked over him with an appraising eye, but no one came to speak to him. He wasn’t complaining though; these people didn’t look like they wanted to be talked to anyway.

After a few minutes of banging around in the cupboards, Arthur found himself standing before a gas-lit stove with a pan in one hand and two eggs in the other. He cracked them open, and left them sizzling as he looked through more cabinets and drawers to find a spatula. As he was searching, he realized there was only one more chef in the room, and he was actually walking out the door as Arthur watched.

Now Arthur really was alone.

“No matter,” Arthur mumbled to himself. “I know how to cook eggs.” _(It’s one of the only foods poor Arthur can cook without destroying everything)._

As he carefully flipped the eggs, a person made themselves known by projected their voice across the large kitchen, causing one of the egg’s yolk to break and spread around the pan.

“Artie!”

Arthur gritted his teeth in annoyance at the nickname. Where did that even come from?

The King of Spades sidled up behind Arthur and peeked over his shoulder.

“Ooh eggs! Did you know those come from the royal family’s special bred chickens? They taste a lot better than regular eggs, and they’re bigger too! Hey Artie, you should make some for me too!” 

Arthur closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose. Again with that stupid name.

“King Alfred, I do apologize, but could you please step away? My eggs are done and I need a plate to put them on,” Arthur said, sliding his eyes over to look at Alfred’s beaming face.

“Yeah sure, of course! No need to apologize!” Alfred backed up to give Arthur breathing room. Arthur turned toward the cupboard he remembered seeing the plates in as he was looking for the pan. After grabbing one of appropriate size and placing the eggs on it (one with a perfectly round yolk, and the other one broken beyond repair), he finally faced the king. He still needed something before he could eat.

“Where is the salt and pepper?” 

\----

Arthur has learned something in his short time around the king.

Alfred has absolutely no etiquette. 

Arthur sat with his hands in his lap, listening to the king talk around a mouthful of food. He leaned forward with both elbows on the table, and Arthur had to fight down the urge to physically wince.

“So then, Yao threw the book across the room and stomped out the door. It was the only time I thought he was actually angry with me, but only an hour later he was apologizing and saying he didn’t mean it. Isn’t Yao such a great person? He’s really cut out to be the Jack!” Alfred took a drink of milk after finishing his story, leaving a white mustache he wiped away with the back of his hand.

Arthur couldn’t hold back his wince that time.

“Say…you are the king, right?”

“Hmm?” Alfred looked up with a curious smile. “I couldn’t hear you. You spoke too quietly.

“Ah, never mind.” Arthur flapped a hand, and Alfred shrugged.

“Whatever you say, Artie.”

Arthur ground his teeth together. He simply could not _stand_ that name.

“King Alfred, if I may ask, why do you call me that?”

Alfred shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth before answering. “What, Artie? I don’t know really. It just suits you.” He shrugged again and looked down at his almost empty plate with a sad look on his face.

Arthur clenched his hands underneath the table. He _really_ hated that name. “Is it possible for you to just call me by my actual name? I’m not very fond of having that as a nickname.”

The King of Spades pouted, and Arthur diverted his attention from the shining eyes and pushed out bottom lip. “Aw, how come? I like it!”

Arthur pushed his chair back, stood up, gathered his things, and walked away. He didn’t want to have this conversation right now. He hoped the king would just drop the name after being asked, but it seemed like that wouldn’t be the case.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor was heard behind Arthur, and then footsteps hurried toward him.

“Did I upset you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, really! I’ll stop calling you that, okay?” 

Arthur put his silverware into one of the many sinks and sighed.

“It’s alright. Just call me Arthur, and I’ll be fine.” The shorter man turned around to look into the king’s eyes, and was mildly surprised by the lack of a smile on his face. He looked so…serious. “Also, wipe that look off your face. It doesn’t suit you.”

The king cocked his head with a confused look, before his face lit up brighter than the sun. _(That’s better)._ “I like it when you aren’t so formal! You don’t have to be like that around me. I know I’m the king and all, but having a normal conversation is way better than sounded all stiff and serious.” 

Arthur scowled. Alfred didn’t want him to be “formal?” Fine. 

“I am not being formal, Alfred. I just have correct grammar skills, unlike you. Maybe you should learn how to use your words properly.”

The king blinked in surprise, and Arthur wondered if maybe he had gone too far before Alfred started laughing loudly, bent over with his hands over his stomach.

Arthur waited patiently until the king was finished, before asking, “What in the world is so funny? I’m only being honest.”

“I know!” Alfred exclaimed. “That’s why it’s so hilarious! Like I told you last night, most people go along with what I say without a second thought, but you’re different. You talk back to me, and even insult me. It’s great!” The king’s face was red from laughing, and his eyes were twinkling.

“W-what?” Arthur stuttered, not exactly sure if he had heard the king correctly. He enjoyed being insulted? “That’s the craziest statement I’ve ever heard! How can you _like_ being indirectly called stupid?”

Alfred shrugged again, with that dumb smile almost breaking his face in half. “Sometimes Yao will say mean things, but he always covers his mouth and says sorry immediately afterward. No one else ever has the guts to be rude to me, so when you did that, it was exciting! It’s a nice change from ‘Yes, sir’ and ‘No, Your Highness.’”

Arthur shook his head with an incredulous look on his face.

_This guy was crazy!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo yo yo I know this chapter is significantly shorter than the first, but I had to leave a good impression right? 
> 
> This will probably be my normal chapter length, unless I decide to go overboard for whatever reason. *cough* smut *cough*
> 
> Also, this is posted on Wattpad and FanFiction.net, so if you're weird and you don't want to read it on here, go check it out on those websites. Same username for FF, and -dantalion- for Wattpad.


	3. Magic, No Seriously Actual Magic, and that One Smile

Arthur lay back on his bed (no longer afraid), thinking about the insane man who ruled over the Kingdom of Spades. What the hell is up with him?

Is he sadistic or something?

 _‘I honestly wouldn’t be surprised,’_ Arthur thought to himself as he rolled onto his side and tucked his arms up to his chest. He sighed and closed his eyes. A nap sure would be nice right now.

But of course that won’t be happening anytime soon.

“Heyyy Arthur!”

Great.

Arthur sat up and glared at the intruding king. The damn fool didn’t knock or anything!

“We saw each other not ten minutes ago. What could you possibly want with me?” Arthur intensified his glare a bit as Alfred sat on the floor in front of the bed. What horrible manners this man has.

“Well, I told you last night that I would answer any questions you have, right? So, fire away! I’ll give you my best answers!” Alfred’s shit-eating grin grated Arthur’s nerves, and he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Do you not have anywhere else better to be right now?”

“What could be better than talking to you?” 

Arthur sighed, yet again, and clenched his eyes for a moment. 

“I still would like to know why you want me here, and not just because I am an ‘interesting person’ to you. There must be more. You can’t just want someone to become a queen because they look ‘interesting,’” Arthur said bitingly, taking his hand away from his face to watch the king’s nonchalant, but still so optimistic, expression.

Alfred shrugged, than shifted to stretch his arms out behind them, locking his elbows as he stared up at Arthur. “I honestly don’t have any other reason. Your posture is pretty regal, I guess, and you have an air of… _formalness_ around you. I don’t really know how to explain it, because not even the magic of Spades did some weird thing. It was just my instincts!”

“Instincts?!” Arthur spluttered, taken aback. “You went by your instincts? What if I was actually a trained assassin hired to kill you in your sleep? You can’t just go by _instincts._ That’s absolutely unheard of.” Arthur sniffed disdainfully and crossed his arms, but before the king could say anything else, he continued. “And ‘magic of Spades?’ How absurd!” The boy sitting on the bed shook his head, and Alfred watched in amusement.

“You don’t believe in the magic of Spades?” he asked, his bright smile turning more and more into a mischievous one.

“Of course I don’t! It’s scientifically impossible!” Arthur was getting agitated, one of his worst traits. He always seemed to get annoyed way too quickly, even over small, trivial things, and... 

Alfred was glowing.

Or, rather, the air around him was, and he was illuminated by it. A light blue hue surrounded the king as he held his hands out, palms facing upwards, a playful turn at the corners of his mouth.

“What the hell?!” Arthur scrambled away from Alfred, almost falling off the other side of the bed out of his haste. He stood up and backed away as the King of Spades rose to his feet and advanced. “What are you doing? What _is_ that?”

Alfred, seeming to notice the frightened look in Arthur’s eyes, stopped in the middle of the room. “It’s the magic of Spades. You said you didn’t believe, so I’m showing it to you!” 

“Wha-No, this is crazy. You’re insane, absolutely insane!” Arthur’s chest heaved, and his heart hammered. 

To someone who has been realistic and closed off to anything and everything that has too preposterous of an idea their entire life, well…imagine what seeing a glowing king might do.

“Hey, hey, calm down Arthur. Really, it’s okay. It won’t hurt you or anything. Here, watch this.” Alfred lifted one of his hands a bit and curled in his index finger. Arthur flinched at the slight movement, and Alfred watched him with a mix of amusement and…was that worry? He slowly lifted his hand over to his left shoulder, looked at Arthur, mumbled a “please don’t freak out,” then slashed his hand down, in a diagonal line. Arthur gasped and tightly closed his eyes, not even curious enough to see what had happened. 

“Arthur? Hey, open your eyes.” Arthur didn’t comply, and Alfred’s voice shifted to a whiny one. “Arthur, pleeeaassee?”

“If it makes you stop using that horrifyingly annoying voice.” Arthur, heart still beating like a loud drum inside his chest, slowly opened his eyes.

They were outside.

 _“Huh?!”_ Arthur whirled around to look at his surroundings. From what he gathered, he was by the stable he could see when he leaned over his balcony. A confused noise came from him as he lifted his eyes and saw said balcony.

“Wh-how did yo-what?!” Arthur looked to the king for some answers. His shoulders were shaking, and he had both his hands over his face.

Did he seriously have the gall to _laugh_ at Arthur’s distress?

Arthur angrily grabbed the king’s wrists and yanked them away from his face. The action only made Alfred laugh harder. 

“I-I’m sorry, but your face jus-“ He was laughing so hard he couldn’t even finish his damn sentence. Arthur stood impatiently with arms crossed and a foot tapping. He was done being scared. Now he was just plain annoyed. 

When Alfred was finished, he wiped away the tears that had gathered, took a deep breath, and faced Arthur, prepared for the onslaught of questions…

…That never came.

Arthur glared Alfred down, despite being shorter, and Alfred shrunk away a bit. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Arthur beat him to it.

“What. Was. That,” Arthur practically growled, not missing the way the king’s eyes widened by a fraction of an inch. Good. That’s what he got for scaring Arthur.

King Alfred cleared his throat and looked away, an almost sheepish face. “It was the magic of Spades.” Arthur narrowed his eyes, and Alfred held his hands up. “No, seriously, no strings attached. If you ask me to explain how it works I won’t be able to tell you. All I know is that it’s real, and I can use it now that I’m the king. I wasn’t able to until they put the crown on my head. It felt really weird, like someone just shot a whole bunch of power into my bloodstream, and then bam. Magical abilities.” Alfred shrugged, and Arthur scoffed.

“Do you really expect me to believe such a tall-tale?” Arthur shook his head, as if the idea of believing something like that was too much to comprehend _(to him, it was, so I guess that makes sense)._

“Well, yeah. You just saw what happened right? I teleported us outside! Isn’t it cool? I won’t be able to teleport us back inside though. Using that sort of magic is really tiring, and if I did it again, I don’t think I’d be able to stand up for a while.” He grinned, and Arthur turned his head away to avoid the brightness of it. 

“You really are something,” Arthur said quietly with a tiny shake of his head.

“What’d you say?” Alfred cocked his head to the side, a questioning look in his eyes. Arthur waved it off, and, deciding to ignore the whole “magic” thing for now, started to walk back towards the palace. Alfred fell into step beside him, and when he turned his head to glare at the younger king, he found that he couldn’t.

Honestly, him and that smile of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short, I know. About 1.2k words, if you want specifics. I'm not too proud of it either, but oh well. Next one will be longer, hopefully (I'd promise but I'm not 100% sure if I'd be able to keep it).


	4. Arthur the Teacher and Table Manners

“You need to learn how to be more proper.”

Alfred looked up with a mouthful of chicken, the chosen food for dinner that night. _(Don’t worry; Arthur didn’t make it)._ “What do you mean?”

Arthur cringed. “That is what I mean. It is very improper to talk with your mouth full. You are a king; you should know this.” He watched as Alfred shrank back into his seat with a pout. Arthur averted his eyes _(why was that look so cute?)_

Alfred swallowed before saying in a high-pitched, whiny voice, “I don’t like being proper. It’s boring.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I do not think you realize how nasty it is to see your mushed-up food every time you open your mouth.” 

“Oh c’mon Arti-“ Alfred caught himself, shot an apologetic look, and corrected himself. “C’mon Arthur, I don’t need to be proper. You like me just how I am, right?” The smile he sent Arthur’s way made his heart jump. He forced a scowl onto his face.

“I’d most likely enjoy your presence more if you weren’t so erroneous,” he stated haughtily, turning his face away from the radiant king. 

The brightness almost physically hurt his eyes.

Arthur grabbed his plate and got up to put it in a sink, with Alfred following suit, cheeks puffed out as he stuffed the last few bites of food into his pallet. He started to open his mouth to talk, but Arthur shot him a deadly glare, so he waited until he had completely swallowed to speak.

“I can have manners when I want to, like at balls and stuff. I just don’t do it around here because it seems kind of unnecessary to do…” he trailed off, looking sheepish, and Arthur couldn’t help but feel a small pang of sympathy for the young king.

Arthur sighed, than perked up slightly as an idea ran across his mind. “You want me to be the Queen of Spades, do you not?” Alfred nodded quickly. “Then I will tell you right now that I will not become a queen if my own king does not know how to portray simple table manners.” The king opened his mouth again, this time food-free, but Arthur held up a hand, and Alfred managed to swallow his comment _(although the new shine to his eyes was still ever-prominent)._ “I will teach you proper etiquette starting tomorrow, whether you want to be taught or not.”

Alfred’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened to the size of saucers.

“What is with that look?” 

It seemed difficult for the king to form words, but when he did, what came out was: “Holy shit.”

Arthur was starting to feel anxious about his offer _(more like demands),_ but he refused to back down. He stared into Alfred’s eyes relentlessly, waiting for the king to deny his request _(I think ‘order’ is a better word)._ “Really, what is the matter?”

Alfred worked his jaw for a moment, gathering words, before he finally blurted, “Do that again.”

“For goodness sake Alfred, do _what_ ag-”

“Order me around.”

Now Arthur’s jaw fell open, and he stared at the king in utter disbelief. He started sputtering, something he does when he’s flustered, and his eyes flickered everywhere but to the king’s face.

“W-what in the world are you t-talking about?!” Arthur exclaimed, turning his head parallel to the ground as he stared at his feet, shoulders hunched, self-conscious of his stuttering. He wished he were anywhere but in front of the attractive king right now. Even out in the stable scooping horse shit into a compost pile was better than this. He had _just_ been talking about how improper Alfred was, and now here he was, blushing and tripping over his words like a grade school girl around her crush. 

How embarrassing.

When the Spades king hesitated to answer, Arthur flicked his eyes upwards, only to see the younger boy staring back with a strange look on his face and…were those _red cheeks?_

_This could not be any worse._

Arthur had to get out of this situation, which was quickly turning awkward.

“So just…meet me in my room tomorrow at nine o’clock and we will have the lesson on my balcony. I expect you to be on time. Goodnight.” He scurried away, not stopping even as the king protested behind him. (“Arthur? Hey, wai-!”)

Once back in his room, he flopped onto the bed and hugged a pillow close, face still on fire and an army still marching through his chest.

What is with this reaction? Sure, Alfred is attractive _(extremely so)_ but that doesn’t explain Arthur’s heated cheeks and slightly shaking hands. He tightened them around the poor, squished pillow as he thought about the king, his smile, his eyes, the way he can captivate _(and annoy)_ Arthur with a single word of his crisp voice…what did this mean? 

“It means nothing,” Arthur grumbled to himself, voice muffled by the pillow. “I just haven’t had very much attention directed towards me in a long time, so I’m overwhelmed. Yes, that must be it. It has to be.” He nodded to no one, then stretched the covers up over his body and fell asleep soon after.

\----

 

Arthur was up at seven the next morning, and poked his head out his door to see a maid cleaning around a potted plant further down the hall. He waved her over, and asked for breakfast to be brought to his room somewhere between eight-thirty and nine. She nodded hurriedly, than rushed off to deliver the orders to the chefs. 

Now Arthur stood with a shoulder against the sliding glass door that lead out to the balcony, watching the steam that wafted up from the bacon slowly dissipate.

The food was getting cold.

It was nine thirty-eight, and Alfred was nowhere in sight.

Arthur crossed his arms and tapped a finger against his bicep, biting the inside of his bottom lip. At first he had been frustrated _(he still was, just not as much),_ but now he was worried.

Maybe the king forgot?

Perhaps he didn’t want to see Arthur?

What if he actually couldn’t stand being around Arthur?

What if he ha-

The door suddenly turned blue before slamming back against the wall, startling Arthur out of his thoughts. There was a long pause before the King of Spades rushed into the room. The door closed with a _whoosh,_ and the blue coloring faded away.

Alfred hadn’t touched the door once.

“Was using magic to do a task as simple as opening a door really necessary?” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. 

“Well, since I’m late, I decided to make a cool, dramatic entrance instead of coming in and immediately being yelled at!” Alfred replied enthusiastically, skipping over to Arthur. “Ooh, food!” The king yanked the sliding door aside and bounced out onto the balcony, almost knocking the table over in his haste to sit down and dig in. He picked up his fork, licked his lips, and was just about to impale one of the delicious looking eggs when-

“Oi!”

Alfred jerked his head back at the loud exclamation, and stared as Arthur crossed his arms and glared down at him.

“Do you not remember what you are here for?”

The King of Spades put his fork down on his plate. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. The food just looked so good, and I’m really, really hungry.”

Arthur sighed, _(he sure seems to do that a lot huh?)_ than pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table and gracefully sat down.

“Watch me, and repeat what I do.” Arthur grabbed a napkin with the index and thumb fingers of both hands and shook it out of its folds, then placed it gently on his lap. He smoothed it for a moment before lifting his eyes to meet Alfred’s, who was staring intently. _(Hey, Arthur did tell him to watch, and who would resist an offer like that?)_ “Go on.”

“Oh! Oh yeah, okay.” Alfred took his own napkin and tried to hold it just as Arthur had, but unfortunately, their fingers are a bit different. While Arthur’s are slim and nimble, Alfred’s are short and chubby, leading to the napkin crumpling slightly in his grip. 

“No, you imbecile. You messed it all up and there is not an extra. Just…make sure to do it correctly next time.” Arthur glanced sadly at the rumpled cloth before making his posture look even more regal than it already did. “You have a horrible slouching habit. Straighten out your back and lift your chin.” Alfred did as he was told, and Arthur felt a strange satisfaction at having the king follow his orders. 

Alfred started to bring his arms up, but Arthur stopped him with a “What are you doing?” The king put his hands back in his lap and stared at the older boy blankly. Arthur shook his head. “Absolutely do not put your elbows on the table.”

“Oh.” Alfred moved his arms around for a moment before setting his forearm against the side of the table and picking up his fork in his fist. Arthur told him to stop again, and showed him how to properly hold the utensil. 

Once the king was finished eating, he immediately slouched back in his seat and sighed, loudly and dramatically. Arthur had to hold back a smile, and instead scowled at the young king as he relaxed in his chair and grinned.

“What is with that look?” Arthur asked. He would have thought Alfred would be pouty after they were finished.

“I’m just happy I got to spend this time with you, even though you were teaching me stuff I don’t really care about. I’m glad you’re the teacher though! You’re not very nice, but it’s still fun when it’s you! Kind of. It’s a little boring but I like listening to your voice, even when you’re yelling at me.” 

Arthur felt his face turn hot. He wasn’t sure whether to be frustrated with the king for insulting his teaching, or to be overjoyed that he complimented him and wanted to spend time with him.

Arthur would never admit to it, but he was glad as well. 

“W-well, you had better get used to this, because we will be doing this every morning from now on until you know how to use proper table manners.” Arthur abruptly stood up. “I will go call for a servant.” He walked back into his room with the sound of the king pushing back his chair and following reaching his ears. 

“Hey Arthur?”

Arthur stopped halfway to the door and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, Alfred?”

“Would you maybe want to go to the marketplace with me today?” The king smiled widely, but it looked a little…shy? 

The shorter man’s eyes widened, and he quickly turned back around to avoid Alfred’s eyes. He took a deep breath. All the king asked was to go to the marketplace, so why was Arthur reacting like this? The thought of walking around with Alfred, looking at stalls with him, seeing his face light up as he saw something he liked…

He closed his eyes and willed his heart to calm down.

“I would love to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yet another chapter. just a warning, I have never written any sort of romance, and I don't really have much personal experience, so I apologize for the horrible cheesiness.


End file.
